Okay, the image of Big Chief Hamhead feeding his right honourable member into a decomposing mound of pork scratching is a bit embarrassing.

Although, the previous Tory Prime Minister stuck the same part of his anatomy in a far worse place than that, as Edwina Currie willingly confirms.

Also, as initiation ceremonies go, joining Oxford’s Piers Gaveston Society sounds traumatic and humiliating. But not as bad as trying to switch to Scottish Power.

And, actually, Pigpokegate wasn’t the most telling point to emerge from Lord Ashcroft’s book. Neither were the allegations about drug-taking, lying about Ashcroft’s non-dom status or setting up the Leveson Inquiry to protect The Chipping Snorton Set.

Which chimes with revelations in a previous biography on Cam­­er­­on, by fellow Old Etonian James Hanning and Francis Elliott, who said that – despite being at Oxford during the halcyon days of Thatcherism – he was more interested in networking and mounting high-class fillies.

He only applied to join the Conservative Research Department when he found a brochure from the careers department in his pigeon hole.

“He simply fell into politics because, having applied to all the blue-chip merchant bankers and management consultants, he had failed to find a job elsewhere,” wrote Hanning.

And he didn’t get his foot on the first rung of the ladder because of his passion for politics, but because Tory Central Office received an anonymous phone call from Buckingham Palace, just before his interview, advising them to take him on.

The man who gave him that job, Robin Harris, later regretted it, saying: “Cameron was in the category of people who came into the party at the time because they saw it as a way of advancing their careers. He is an out-and-out opportunist. I don’t believe he believes anything.”

Exclude licking the orifices of rich despots, and you could say the same about Tony Blair. Another privileged kid – whose father was chairman of the local Conservatives and who was a boarder at the Eton of the North, Fettes where he once stood in a mock election as a Tory – Blair showed no interest in politics at university.

He just wanted to be a pop star with his band Ugly Rumours, until he met Cherie (daughter of firebrand leftie Tony Booth) and saw politics, or showbiz for ugly people, as a decent career choice.

So the two men who have defined British politics in the post-Thatcher era were simply salesmen with mock-sincere smiles, who could charm party leaders and the electorate into giving them a job that guaranteed power, global travel and making obscene amounts of cash in retirement.

Both believe themselves to be political heavyweights, with “isms” after their name, whose vision and courage “modernised” Britain.

Yet history will judge them, when compared to the likes of Hardie, Attlee, Churchill and Thatcher , as lightweight PR men with no clear ideology.

You want to know why Jeremy Corbyn, Boris Johnson, Nigel Farage and Nicola Sturgeon excite their core voters? Because people believe they hold sincere beliefs. That unlike Cameron and Blair they have convictions.

Although, if there is a God, one might soon have one for war crimes and the other for drug-taking and bestiality.